


House Haunting

by Indelible_Faith (TheWaterGoddess), PoisonedMind, WhiskersandQuiff



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Established Relationship, Ghosts, Horror-esque, M/M, Mild Language, Paranormal, probably too many bad puns
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-26
Updated: 2019-08-26
Packaged: 2020-09-27 08:57:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,013
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20405077
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheWaterGoddess/pseuds/Indelible_Faith, https://archiveofourown.org/users/PoisonedMind/pseuds/PoisonedMind, https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhiskersandQuiff/pseuds/WhiskersandQuiff
Summary: Their house is haunted, Phil is certain of it.Dan, on the other hand, has doubts. But when certain events begin happening, Dan doesn’t really think it’s quite amusing anymore...





	House Haunting

**Author's Note:**

> this is written for [@phanfictionevents](https://phanfictionevents.tumblr.com/)’ telephone event! which means i did not write this entire fic; two other authors worked on this with me, writing the beginning and the middle. i will add them as soon as teams are revealed!
> 
> The authors responsible for this ghostly fic are:
> 
> 1st Writer - Indelible_Faith  
2nd Writer - WhiskersandQuiff  
3rd Writer - PoisonedMind
> 
> Enjoy!

Dan had always been a tiny bit sceptical of the claims Phil made about his childhood home being haunted. Not only because it was impossible in the extreme and utterly ridiculous to believe in the supernatural, but also since it was a newly constructed home and thus put an end to the very notion of old spirits living in the attic or inside the pantry.

But, old house notwithstanding, Dan absolutely refused to entertain the fact that their _current_ home was haunted.

"Whatever you saw, it was past midnight, you were half asleep and imagined it." Dan said it lounging in an armchair, in a way that was not meant to be lounged in. He had his back pressed against one armrest and his feet against the other.

Phil gave him a side-eyed look of exasperation when he'd attempted to curl his six-foot-plus long body into the totally inadequate space provided.

"What are you doing, Dan? Trying to become a human pretzel?" Phil ignored Dan's subsequent flip-off and continued, "And I know what I saw! I wasn't imagining stuff."

"A shadow? Which you're now blowing out of proportion."

Phil opened his mouth to retort but then shut it. A niggle of doubt had crept in. Was he truly blowing things out of proportion? He knew that his half drowsy state might have contributed to his overactive imagination to show him something horrifying, but he also knew that there was definitely something weird about last night. He put it out of his mind.

"How do you feel about _Drunk-fu: Wasted Masters_?"

"_Drunk-fu?_"

"For the gaming channel." Dan laughed, reading the gameplay, "Oh, listen to this –"

* * *

It was much later in the evening that their fledgeling idea of moving house actually gained traction due to the most innocuous happenstance…

"Look, that house is still up for sale!"

Dan looked up from his own laptop where he'd been attempting to clean up backlogs of emails – a mixture of work and spam, he was quickly tiring of it.

"The one with the three suspicious deaths in the bedroom?" He snorted, "I'm not surprised. Why are you looking at houses anyway?"

"It popped up as an ad!"

"Nice excuse," Dan scooted over to peer over Phil's shoulder, "you're not going to convince me to move houses just because you think this one makes strange noises at night."

Phil made a noise that was a half garbled protest and half incredulous laughter when the balcony door slammed shut.

"Probably the wind," said Dan after a pause, knowing full well that they'd been having dry and hot weather with barely a hint of a breeze.

"Probably a good time to look for another house," countered Phil. "Besides, don't you want to finally stop paying rent?"

"A good excuse as any to look for a new house," said Dan. And so they sat down to scroll past picturesque houses, commenting on the location, the architecture or cost and ended up with no concrete results to show.

By the next morning, Dan's sceptical sense of reasoning had returned and he had multiple theories to explain last night's phenomenon.

"Could be due to opposing air pressures, you know? We did have the aircon at full blast and the door was left open only a tiny bit, so–"

"Oi, oi, I might not have taken a physics course in college," said Phil, annoyed, "but even I know that the aircon couldn't have shut that door when it _closes in the opposite direction_."

Well. That was a valid point.

"Look, you know I can't take your ghost stories seriously, but for some reason, it still spooks me out, so can we just pretend it's nothing and leave it be?"

Dan wanted to put the incident behind him and Phil could empathise, slightly. But he didn't know if it was a remnant of intuitive judgement passed down from his psychic grandmother, his own paranoia and gullibility or a combination of them all, but he didn't like what was happening. What had been happening in the past two years they'd been living here.

It had started out with small squeaking noises made across floorboards no one was standing on or doors that creaked despite no one walking through, and had progressed to noises like the microwave beeping in the middle of the night or knocks on their front door.

_"Is that you?" Phil had asked sleepily one night when the beeping of the microwave woke him up. But when he turned around, his hand landed on Dan, soundly sleeping and curled around a pillow. "You left the microwave on," he complained but got up to switch it off lest they waste electricity. _

_But the microwave wasn't switched on and hadn't been the next four times he heard it. Phil didn't bother getting up after that._

"Let's have a movie marathon tonight or something," said Phil; he _needed_ a distraction.

Dan blinked at the abrupt suggestion but acquiesced. "Buffy?"

Phil hesitated. Did he want to watch a show about vampires when he was already losing sleep over mysterious noises in the house?

"I was thinking more along the lines of anime…"

"Ooh, I have a suggestion then – it's an old anime, but you'll love it. A detective series with a slight mixture of science and sci-fi and it's gone past a thousand episodes, so we can binge–"

* * *

The lights began to flicker just as a gunshot sounded in the middle of Episode 104.

"I'm not quite sure it was a good idea to watch a crime series," Phil groaned.

Dan laughed, "What are you saying, Phil? Detective Conan is a firm believer of the fact that every supernatural incident has a scientific explanation behind it, it's the perfect thing to watch!"

They had popcorn and Ribena on the coffee table beside them and a blanket draped over their legs. Usually the perfect description of a night-in – and then the light bulb overhead _burst_.

"What the fuck?!"

…

They paused the anime and silence reigned. In the dim blue light of the TV, Dan glanced over at Phil.

“We need to buy a new house,” Phil insisted in a whisper.

“Oh, come _on_, Phil. It was probably just a surge of electricity or something,” Dan reasoned, though he didn’t sound sure even to himself. There was no confident eye roll, no scoff of a laugh, just a shaky attempt to get some kind of a hold on the situation and remain calm.

“All the more reason to move!” Phil kept whispering, as if whatever was in their flat would be angered by anything louder. “Even if there’s not a ghost, the electricity is unstable and we could get hurt!”

Dan had to concede that Phil had a point.

“Okay, fine, we can redouble our house-hunting efforts. But not the murder house! If anything, it’ll be _more_ haunted than here.”

Phil smirked. “‘More haunted’? So you admit this place is haunted?”

Dan spluttered. “No! I- no, that’s not what I-“

Whatever he was going to say next was swallowed by a loud wooden creak coming from the door behind the couch.

Dan and Phil froze, eyes locked on each other’s. They silently communicated, arguing over who would turn around to check for murderers, ghosts, ghouls, or anything else that might’ve just entered the room. Finding themselves at an impasse, they resolved to both look at the same time. Dan’s hand grabbed Phil’s in a tight grip, then they whipped their heads around.

All they saw was the lounge as normal, lit only by the TV’s light.

“We need to check it out,” Phil whispered. “Someone could be in the house.”

“What the fuck?! No! That’s how everyone dies in horror movies!”

“But if we don’t check it out, we could get murdered in our sleep!”

Dan huffed a breath. “Not if I don’t fall asleep tonight, which you seem to be guaranteeing.”

“No, really, Dan,” Phil argued. “We need to check it out.”

Phil’s tone finally cut through Dan’s bluster. He’d never seen Phil look so frightened; it made him remember all the times Phil had woken up from nightmares about home invasions. This was literally Phil’s worst fear.

“Okay,” Dan said softly, trying to soothe and reassure him. “We’ll go together, though, yeah? Hold hands, backs to the wall, and I’ll go ahead of you.”

Phil nodded jerkily, so they stood up together, assuming the position Dan had suggested. Slowly, they made their way through the flat, turning on all the lights they came across.

They found no one in the house, though there was something… odd, just a little bit _off_, about nearly every room: hair straighteners on the counter in the bathroom even though Dan’s had been shoved to the back of the linens cupboard down the hall since PINOF 10, mugs laying on their sides on the floor of the kitchen, shoe stand knocked over and the shoes surrounding it in a disorganized pile. Dan knew they could be a bit messy sometimes, but never like this.

But nobody was in the house. The door was closed and locked, the windows closed and curtains drawn, and there was no way for someone to get inside.

They returned to the lounge, ready to call it a night and sleep fitfully in the safety of their bed, but froze, totally petrified with fear.

On the sofa, right where Dan had been sitting earlier, there was a single piece of paper.

In big, red block letters, it read,

**I’M HAVING FUN WITH YOU TWO**

Neither of them said anything, neither of them moved, barely even _breathed_.

Phil’s heart was pounding, loud and painfully, and he finally turned his head to Dan. Dan’s eyes were staring at the paper but not in horror as Phil had been. More like glaring at it.

“You know what, fuck this,” Dan whispered. And then he walked into the middle of the lounge, grabbed the piece of paper, and yelled, “Here, ghosty-ghosty!”

Phil’s first thought was to shush him because it was the middle of the night and their neighbours would probably prefer to sleep instead of listening to Dan take on a ghost.

His second thought was to shush him because he’d like to survive the night, thank you very much. Phil knew Dan was sceptic about the whole supernatural stuff, but he never thought the idiot was downright dumb.

“What are you _doing_,” he hissed.

Nothing happened. No creaking floors, no doors slamming, no flickering lights. Dan’s eyes landed on Phil and the longer the silence lasted, the more the glint in his eyes turned mischievous.

Phil knew that whatever Dan was about to do, it couldn’t be good.

“If anyone’s here, slam a door for yes,” Dan said, voice lingering in the silence that followed.

Phil stepped forward, whispering, “Stop-!”

“I’m trying to make contact, Phil. If there really is a ghost present, don’t you want to know what they want?”

“No.” Phil thought about every horror movie he’d ever seen. “Not really, actually.”

“Phil.” Dan tried to sound serious. ‘Tried’ being the operative word there, because when he’d looked closer at the piece of paper, he’d recognised it. And he might be a bit of a masochist but he could never really pass an opportunity to get under Phil’s skin. He was just too easy. But Phil was obviously really shaken now. Dan bit his cheek and said, “This is from the board game night. Bryony wrote this, remember?”

Now that Dan mentioned it, and Phil got a better look at the paper, he did, in fact, recognise it.

“But how did it end up on the sofa of all places?” Phil still couldn’t shake the feeling.

“Hell if I know,” Dan said, shrugging. “Probably got blown over here by the aircon.”

Phil opened his mouth to argue, but Dan beat him to it. “That is actually the most logical explanation, don’t come for me.”

“But these are all clear signs of a haunting, Dan.”

“What, electrical surges and creaking floorboards in an old building?”

“You’re in denial.”

“No. I’m being logical here.” Dan hated the fact that it felt like they were dipping their toes into a fight. He took Phil’s hand, squeezed it, and pulled him to him.

“Hey,” he mumbled. Phil was avoiding his eyes but Dan couldn’t decide if it was because he was annoyed or because he was checking the wall behind him out. He dipped his head down slightly and Phil finally looked at him. “I’m sorry,” Dan whispered.

Phil knocked his forehead against Dan’s and sighed. “You’re probably right.”

Dan also hated the fact that Phil sounded so defeated.

“Hey,” he mumbled again. Phil caught his eyes immediately this time. “Bed?”

“Bed.” Phil nodded.

* * *

When Phil woke up, the bed was empty. That in itself wasn’t unusual but after last night, Phil would’ve liked a morning snuggled up to Dan. He could hear him, though. Muttering about in the house somewhere. As Phil lay there listening, he realised Dan was cursing.

Which again wasn’t unusual in itself, but Phil swung his legs out of bed and stood up.

Dan was in the kitchen.

He paused when he noticed Phil.

“We’re being haunted by a twat,” he informed Phil.

It took a second for Phil to understand what Dan just said but then all blood drained from Phil’s face. “What?”

“We,” - he paused for dramatic effect, gesturing between them - “are being haunted. By a _twat_.” He said the last bit up into the ceiling. Phil cast a glance up there, too, hoping to God not to see anything.

But right there, pinned to the ceiling, was another piece of paper.

**Boo-ckle up this is gonna be a rollerghoster**

“What?” he said again.

“There is a ghost. You were right, Phil.” Dan pours him a cup of coffee from the coffeemaker. Phil hadn’t even realised Dan had been making coffee when he found him.

“This…” Phil shook his head. “This doesn’t make any sense.”

“Oh yeah, no it doesn’t.” Dan nodded as he shoved the mug into Phil's hands. “None at all.”

Phil finally shook himself out of his stupor and he noticed the way Dan’s hair was poking in every direction possible. Maybe even in new, yet to be discovered dimensions. “Your bedhead is _epic_,” Phil blurted.

Dan stopped to regard him over the rim of his own steaming mug. “Yeah. Because there’s an actual invisible fucking spirit in my house. And turns out, it’s not malicious. It’s just a dolt.”

“You’re serious,” Phil said.

“Mhm.”

“There’s a… a _ghost_. Actually haunting us?”

“Not just a ghost, Phil. A dumb ghost.”

“Right…”

At that moment the mug Phil was clinging to was ripped out of his hand and landed with a crash on the floor. Phil was sad for all of a second because that was one of his favourite mugs until he realised it didn’t break. The coffee, however, was _everywhere_.

“You fucking-” Dan spat to their floor but then his own mug sailed down too. “If you’re going to haunt something, at least do it properly, you stupid boring excuse of a ghost.”

The coffee on the floor started moving. Phil shrieked and stepped back as the liquid formed words in front of them.

**I’m not a boring ghost. I’m boo-ring.**

Dan was tired. He had to live with bad puns coming from Phil every day but now he was also being haunted by a wannabe comedian ghost. At least, Phil was hot. Speaking of Phil, Dan lifted his head to look at him. “See,” he said and gestured to the mess on the floor, “a twat.”

“I…” Phil started. He swallowed then looked up at Dan. “I’m still trying to wrap my head around ghosts actually being real.”

“You’re the believer, _I’m_ supposed to be the sceptic in this relationship.”

The coffee on their kitchen floor started moving again.

**This one is deadicated to you then Phil**

Phil snorted. Then coughed because a ghost just made him laugh and that was probably the weirdest thing he’d ever experienced. Well... One of, at least.

“What is?” he said to the coffee.

The lights started flickering and the microwave started beeping. The floor was creaking. Phil could feel himself freaking out but Dan put a hand on his arm and said, “Okay, you’ve done enough, thank you for your show.”

The coffee moved again.

**Boo-lieve me now?**

“Alright, that’s it,” Dan huffed, “I’m gonna clean this up before I go mental.”

The coffee flew over into the corner of the kitchen and started forming words again.

**Don’t speak until spooken to Daniel**

“I _will_ find a way to push you out the window, you absolute imbecile,” Dan said. He looked to Phil. “The ghost thinks it’s fucking funny.”

Phil had to give it to their ghost. Its puns were pretty good. “At least it’s a friendly ghost.”

“Yeah,” Dan said, “we’re being haunted by Casper the Friendly fucking Ghost.” He turned and then immediately spun back around again, pointing a finger at the coffee. “Even worse,” he added, “we’re being haunted by a Casper with zero humour. Nought.”

**Go take the elevator it will raise your spirits**

Usually, Phil was the one riling Dan up with his bad puns. This was almost better. Dan was fuming, Phil could practically see the smoke coming out of his ears. The best part about wounding Dan up like this was the fact Phil knew Dan found it funny himself. Deep down. Deep, deep down he was actually laughing at the bad puns.

“You know what,” Dan hissed, “I’m officially declaring operation house hunting our highest priority.”

Phil couldn’t hold it back. He just couldn’t. “You mean operation house haunting, don’t you?”

Dan glared. The corners of his lips vibrated and Phil knew he was almost broken.

The coffee trickled from the corner to in front of Dan.

**You should find a house with a living room**

And that was it, Phil burst out laughing and that was all it took before Dan broke down into laughter, too.

**Author's Note:**

> hope you liked it!
> 
> if you want to, it'd make me very happy if you [like/reblog](https://bie-lovers.tumblr.com/post/187288093936/house-haunting) this on tumblr :)
> 
> and remember to check out the other authors when they get revealed!
> 
> ...okay one last one, yeah? 
> 
> how do ghosts like their eggs? terri-fried


End file.
